Some mornings I wake up tired
before the fire of the sun eats
the mist covering the dust
on the long road my feet travel
each day wishing I was asleep still
just like a snake in an old tire
dreaming of young boys rolling
me over and over down a steep hill
again, forever and ever, amen.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 7:32 AM UTC
Some mornings I wake up tired
before the fire of the sun eats
the mist covering the dust
on the long road my feet travel
each day wishing I was asleep still
just like a snake in an old tire
dreaming of young boys rolling
me over and over down a steep hill
again, forever and ever, amen.
Work can **** some days.
